


Flu

by 221b_TARDISstreet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Human Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221b_TARDISstreet/pseuds/221b_TARDISstreet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wakes up sick, and Dean takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flu

Dean walked to the table, still mostly asleep. Sam had put out four bowls of oatmeal and was currently wrapped up in some conversation with Kevin about the scientific theory on blah blah blah. Something was wrong.  
“Sam? Where’s Cas?” Dean asked blearily.  
“I don’t know, I’m not a GPS. He’s probably just sleeping in,” Sam replied, turning back to his conversation. Dean snorted. Sam didn’t know jack. Cas had never once slept in the entire time he’d lived at the bunker.  
Dean stood and walked away, leaving the oatmeal, which was disgusting. He wandered toward Cas’s room, stopping at the door and listening for a moment. Cough cough. Hichue! came from the other side other side of the door. Was that Cas? Sneezing? Dean pushed the door open. Cas lay in the bed, facing away from Dean.  
“Cas? You okay?”  
“I feel like someone has rubbed sandpaper on my throat and set fire to my face. No, I am not okay, Dean.” Cas replied weakly, his voice even deeper and rougher than usual. Dean walked over to the other side of the bed, his forehead wrinkling when he saw Cas, who looked terrible. He was deadly pale, except his cheeks, which were flushed a bright red. His normally bright eyes were dull and glassy, and he was shaking.  
Dean cautiously reached his hand out and rested it on the ex-angel’s forehead. It was the same temperature as the gross oatmeal had been fresh off the stove. Cas looked confusedly at Dean, not understanding what was going on. Having never been sick before, he had no clue why he felt like this, let alone what Dean was doing.  
“Cas, I’m gonna go get a thermometer. Don’t go anywhere,” Dean said, giving no further explanation. Cas watched him leave, not bothering to call after him. He returned a minute later holding a plastic device that kept beeping.  
“Here, put this under your tongue ‘til it beeps,” Dean said. Cas did what he was told, though it was very uncomfortable. When it beeped, Dean took it, read it, and began looking more concerned.  
“Hundred and three,” he muttered.  
“What’s going on, Dean?” Cas asked. It was then that it hit Dean how clueless Cas was.  
“You’re sick, Cas. Your body temperature is way too high; you have a fever. Probly the flu or somethin’.”  
“Am I going to die?” Cas asked, looking quite scared.  
“’Course not. You’re just gonna feel like crap for a few days. I’ll get you some medicine and stuff, you’ll be fine,” Dean told him. “Now do you wanna stay in here or go lay on the couch?”  
“I’ll go to the couch,” Cas said, trying to stand up. Not expecting the wave of dizziness, he started to fall over. Dean caught him before he hit the floor, lifting the smaller man back to his feet.  
“Sorry, forgot to warn you about that,” he said apologetically. He wrapped an arm around Cas’s waist for support and they made their way out of the bedroom.  
As the two walked past the table, Sam and Kevin looked up from some book they had been looking through. Neither spoke, mostly in fear of getting yelled by Dean, but instead watched as Dean half lifted Cas onto the couch and lay him down carefully.  
“Sammy, where’s the… every kind of medicine we have?” Dean asked.  
“I’ll get it. He sick?” Sam stood up, leaving Kevin.  
“Yeah. Fever and stuff,” Dean replied, glancing at a very pitiful looking Cas. Sam nodded and walked to some corner of somewhere to find medicine.  
“Dean?” Cas asked.  
“Yeah?”  
“This is very unpleasant.”  
“I know, Cas.” Dean said, feeling increasingly bad for his friend.  
“One thing I don’t understand,” Cas said, interrupting himself with a painful sounding cough, “is why I feel cold if my temperature is nearly five degrees above normal.”  
“I honestly have no idea. Don’t do science. You want a blanket?” Dean asked.  
“Yes, please.” Dean slipped into his own bedroom and grabbed the most comfortable blanket he had. When he returned, Sam was counting out pills and Kevin was pouring orange juice. Cas, sitting up now, looked hopefully at the blanket in a way that made Dean’s heart melt a little. He sat down on the coffee table next to Cas and wrapped the blanket around him, pulling it tight in front.  
“Here,” Sam said, handing the pills to Dean. Kevin’s orange juice followed.  
“Okay, Cas, swallow these. Whole. Wash it down with the juice,” Dean told him. Cas obliged, cringing as the pills went down his sore throat.  
“It’s not helping,” he said a minute later. Dean chuckled a little.  
“It’ll take a little while. Just relax until it works,” he explained. “I’ll go get a-”  
“No,” Cas interrupted. “Stay.” Dean nearly said aaawww out loud, but instead just nodded and sat next to him. Dean shot a glare at Sam and Kevin, who giggled a little as they walked off.  
“This couch is not comfortable,” Cas said after a minute. Dean had a tiny mental debate with himself, then gave in.  
“Lay down. Put your head in my lap, it’ll be better,” he offered. Cas looked at him a moment, then did exactly that. Dean rested his hand gently on Cas’s head. Cas smiled slightly and slowly started to drift off to a sleep that hopefully would bring him dreams of feeling less awful.


End file.
